


The Lines We Cut, The Wires That Burn

by wajjs



Series: Across The Universe (vld fics) [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Shangst Week 2017, shangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 01:22:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wajjs/pseuds/wajjs
Summary: If blood will flow when flesh and steel are oneDrying in the color of the evening sunTomorrow's rain will wash the stains awayBut something in our minds will always stay—For Shangst Week 2017. Day One: Garrison/Voltron





	The Lines We Cut, The Wires That Burn

**Author's Note:**

> The summary comes from a Sting song titled "Fragile".
> 
> I didn't know there was a shangst week, but today I found out there actually _was_ such a thing and luckily I managed to make it on time to write something for it~ I'm excited! This is the first time I'm participating in something of this sort... I was unable to be part of the many other previous weeks because the days always clashed with my responsibilities LOL
> 
> All in all, I didn't really proof read this, and this story was written in one go, so I apologize if something doesn't tie well together with the rest of the story. Also, it's been a while since I've written angst and I couldn't bring myself to write anything _too_ cruel, so I tried to approach it in a more... ethereal? softer? way.
> 
> There are a few references here and there to Greek myths, but it's nothing too confusing and the references are explained within the story, so that shouldn't be a bother OTL

 

 

**The Lines We Cut, The Wires That Burn**

 

 

   It’s like a downwards spiral that takes forever to begin but, once it starts, it cannot be stopped.  He sees it unravel, he sees the moment seeds start growing and their roots begin to breach the soil.  And at first it’s almost magical and ethereal, at first it’s almost good, just like every new discovery seems to be.

   But then it starts to shatter.  It’s not something that happens everyday.  The first cracks were small, almost non threatening, something nobody should really worry about.  But after the first few had ingrained on their places, more and more appeared, faster each time, unforgiving, uncaring, vindictive.

   But then it explodes into millions and millions of pieces that cut like the sharpest glass.  In the velvety expanse of the universe they slither across there’s no ocean to wash away the gore they left behind.

   Unable to stop everything, unable to turn back in time and stop  _ it  _ from happening  _ (but what, pray tell, is that  _ it _? Or are there more than one? Is that  _ it _ an association of multiple  _ its _? Is he forgetting something?) _ Hunk can only watch and try to console, try to be a shoulder to lean on.  Lance shatters like a mirror thrown against the wall when those words are uttered, those words that bring clouds full of storm above their heads: 

He’s gone.

 

   Time passes and sacrifices are made.  In order to continue living one always ends up compromising things that once were cherished.  Lance knows this.  Everybody knows this.   _ They adapt _ .

   There’s a saying, an old one, one that Lance’s grandma used to say and that would make his grandpa nod in agreement.  He doesn’t quite remember it well, but he remembers the idea, and he grasps that as beacon of hope and perseverance.  Whenever it rained, it stopped.  Or was it Everytime?

   Lance whoops and laughs and lives the moment of delicious thrill coursing through his veins as he pilots Red.  The Lion is just as amused, just as in touch with Lance’s instincts as she was with Keith’s, though the undercurrent of energy, of quintessence, is different in nature.  Keith was fire indeed, whereas Lance was…

   Blue’s connection with Red, a connection within all the lions their pilots were still oblivious about, shimmered and pulsated for a moment, and Red stopped her chained of thought, careful not to broadcast the knowledge to the human.

 

 

_    “Lance,” Shiro’s laughter had the feeling of peaceful summer breeze, that kind of wind that wouldn’t scorch you with its heat, rather caress your skin and leave prickles upon its wake.  His eyes shone with mirth and endearment, and he stepped closer to the edge of the bed, clearly amused by the sight, “What are you doing here?” _

_    “Waiting for you, of course,” Lance grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners and nose scrunching up slightly.   _

_    The expression made Shiro laugh some more, fondness in his eyes, as he leaned down to run his fingers through Lance’s soft and short brown hair. _

_    “Did you wait for too long?” He moved to sit down right next to his partner, smiling as the younger man sat up as well, one of his hands resting atop Shiro’s lap. _

_    “For you?” Lance wondered, tilting his head slightly as he left a caring kiss on his lover’s lips.  “Not even forever is too long.” _

 

 

   They form Voltron, they fight for planets and people that were never related to them and that had never heard of Earth or humans before, but they do it with pride nonetheless.  Hunk sees Lance is still shattered and knows that whatever remains are left, they are held on together by sheer force of will.

   He wonders if Keith knows of what was going on with Shiro and Lance.  He wonders if Shiro talked about Lance just like Lance talked about Shiro after Hunk had found out about them purely by accident.  He looks at Pidge and she seems none the wiser, but with Pidge it’s always hard to tell.  Allura’s eyes tell secrets and whispers, awash when they look upon Lance, upon Black, upon every shadow turning every corner.  Does she know, does she suspect something, Hunk ponders.  Coran ruffles Lance’s hair and Lance smiles some more, shatters rattling but not cutting.  The light of stars bring life to endless nights.

 

   Why are we doing this?  Why are we still trying?

   What is it that we were trying to achieve?

   Lance pushes Keith in a friendly manner, closed hand bumping into Keith’s shoulder, his grin teasing yet so understanding.

   “You like it,” Lance says to their now leader, “You like that we are family.”

   “But Shiro’s not here, Lance,” Keith replies, the two of them not noticing that Hunk’s still in the room with them.  “Shiro’s not here… what am I supposed to do? I’ve never—I’ve never done something like this.  All of you rely on me and I—”

   “Family, Keith,” Lance insists, not stepping closer but not moving away either.  His eyes demand attention and Hunk notices that Keith is unable to look away from them, no matter the tears collecting and threatening to spill.

   “How do you do it?” Keith whispers, almost reverent, “Waiting for something—someone... you don’t know if it’ll come back…”  ( _ Ah _ , Hunk thinks,  _ so he did know after all _ .)

   “Odysseus left for war and then spent years lost,” Lance shrugged, “but he came back and still had a home waiting for him even after the entire world believed him dead.”

   “Home, eh?” Keith sighed, voice still trembling.  A beat passed and then the two of them began laughing. Hunk decided it was time he left them alone.  One by one, the pieces remained shattered, but the strength they had to hold on never wavered.

 

   And then…

   And then…

   And then it’s like the beginning of the world all over again, light casting upon everything, shadows twisting and spiralling into the magnanimous skies.  Pidge screams and sobs and runs straight into her brother’s arms, and Shiro’s there… Shiro’s there, there, there, standing in front of them, and everybody’s a little torn up, a little fucked up, but Shiro’s there, and they all rush to meet right in the middle, laughter drowning out the cries of a death that could happen at any moment.

   Lance’s arms find their way around Shiro’s waist as Shiro pushes him closer and kisses him like a dehydrated man drinking water after a long time.  Hunk grins brightly and hugs them both, unable to stop himself, the rest joining until they are all within the safety of their group hug.  Their home was still standing and their family remained strong.

 

 

_    “Lance,” Shiro whispered as he brushed the pads of his thumbs across cheekbones, faces mere centimeters apart, “can I kiss you?” _

_    And the young man laughed, softly, delicately, heart doing somersaults inside his own chest.  “You don’t even need to ask.” _

 

 

   Hunk remembered clearly that, back at the Garrison, Lance had always looked up to Shiro.  It was endearing, truly, and something he’d tease Lance about relentlessly whenever the pair happened to stumble upon Shiro’s presence.  Looking back at those times, Hunk is struck by the thought of if they hadn’t been meant to be together right from the very first time they had crossed each other’s sights.  It wouldn’t be all too unlikely.  It wouldn’t be too strange.  But what would’ve happened if they had never left their dorms that night?  Or if they had never helped Keith rescue Shiro, or had decided against climbing onto the Blue Lion?  What would’ve been of them if Shiro had never been part of the Kerberos mission crew?  Would they have found each other’s embrace anyway, or would they have lived their days ignoring that the person that would love them was right there, not very far?

   Hunk watches as Shiro absentmindedly holds one of Lance’s hands within his own and lifts it up to his lips to kiss the scars running across his palm and knuckles.  He fusses over the time lost between them, apology always fast at the tip of his tongue, until his lover rolls his eyes fondly and wraps a strong and steady arm around Shiro’s waist.  The waves settle and the storm recedes, today is yet another day they get to breathe.

 

 

   It’s like a downwards spiral that takes forever to begin but, once it starts, it cannot be stopped.  He sees it unravel, he sees the moment seeds start growing and their roots begin to breach the soil.  

   Disaster strikes their existence once more, and Coran knows there’ll never be enough time to prepare them for each hit waiting to get to them.

   The fight started going down south only minutes after it had begun.  It felt like it was too much too soon, but that was war, and they had always managed to adapt quickly.  Always.  Except that day.

   Shiro barked orders through their comms, the Lions moved with their ageless grace, but Coran could feel it.  The sense of wrongness, the foretelling sensation running through his thick skin and pinching at his temples, making his hearts beat with thundering tension.  Something was wrong, he could feel it, almost taste it, something was—

   Voltron was ripped apart and each lion with their pilots wasted precious seconds in regaining their bearings.

   A scream, a sizzling, piercing, screeching sound, and brightness.

   A scream, this time alive, this time desperate, and then two, and then more, and the cacophony of sounds was deafening, everything was wrong, so wrong, so terribly wrong.  Allura stood frozen, wide unbelieving eyes unblinking, tears beginning to fall and roll down her cheeks.  The other human _ (Matt, was it? Coran still confused him with Pidge from time to time) _ had gone pale, whether it was with rage or horror, that he could not tell.

   “Lance!” Shiro’s voice was hoarse, so hoarse, so broken, “LANCE!”

   Blue kept drifting, a hole through her cockpit, no light emanating from the lion’s eyes.  Their enemies didn’t hold back in their attacks and Coran already knew that they had no chance to do anything else but to continue fighting.

   There wasn’t enough time in the entire galaxy, in the entire universe, to wait for Lance to come back.

 

 

_    “I like Hyacinths,” Lance whispered one sleepless night, his right shoulder glued to Shiro’s left one, their hands clasped together, fingers intertwined.  “I like the myth behind their name, too.” _

_    “Wasn’t he the one who was sought by two gods?” Shiro hummed, turning his head so he could look at the outline of Lance’s profile.  He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the younger man’s shoulder.  “Zephyrus and Apollo?” _

_    “Yeah,” he laughed, softly, turning to look at his lover as well. “And when Zephyrus killed him, he turned into such beautiful flowers,” brushing the tip of his nose against Shiro’s, he added, “When we go back home I’d like to buy at least one bouquet of blue hyacinths.” _

_    “We might have to wait some more before that happens,” he said, his smile still etched upon his lips, “but I would like to be the one to buy you flowers.” _

_    “For you, Shiro,” Lance said, calmly, “for you I’d wait an eternity.” _

 

°°°

 


End file.
